The Holiday
by girlsix
Summary: Harry enlists a friend to help find out who's trying to turn him, but nothing is as it seems.
1. Chapter 1

A/N—_**A/N—I'm new to the fandom of MI:5. This is first in what might be a series and involves my favorite Section D team: Adam, Zaf, Jo, Ros, Colin, Malcolm and of course, Harry & Ruth. This particular part is a bit light on the Harry & Ruth but they're in there. This "plot" is completely implausible and non-canon but I tried to keep the characters true to themselves. It's pure indulgence and very, very naughty. Mature themes come-so to speak. Mind the "M" rating. It's more my fantasy than anything else. I'm just wild about Harry. **_

_**Pardon my American-isms. I didn't even try to "talk British" (as Eddie Izzard would say). Also, the name "Eli" is pronounced e-lie, not el-lee. Chapter titles from Zeppelin songs 'cos Harry's a fan. Give them a listen. They'll put you in the mood. No beta. All fubars belong to me. Usual disclaimers apply. -girl6**_

_~~Chapter 1_

Harry Pearce was a chameleon. Two days without a shave changed his entire face. He even had more hair than he let on, usually keeping it cut close - a half-inch longer than normal and a soft, wavy pattern asserted itself, filling in the thin spots. He was not a tall man but was never described as short. Ask someone his eye color and they were just as likely to say brown as green, his hair, brown or blond or ginger. He was careful with his fingerprints, wearing gloves well into the summer. He could fade into a crowd or stand out. He was good at not being directly photographed, casually shielding his face with a hand or a lift of his folio. That's not to say that he was unknown to the general public but he avoided being directly quoted, rather appearing in the papers as quoted by someone else.

In his prime, he was a lanky youth from a Renaissance painting - thick burnished curls and bee-stung lips, fey with men, seductive with women, big bulge in his trousers. He wielded his looks like a weapon, disarming his opponents such that they sometimes told him everything, simply because he asked.

By middle age, his body had evolved and he adjusted the impression he gave off to go along with these changes to that of the paunchy bureaucrat. He subtly reinforced this image by being seen eating the occasional large meal at his club and by pausing at the top of a flight of stairs as if to catch his breath. His tailor was a wizard who pointed and laughed at Saville Row. His bespoke suits created the illusion that Harry had gone soft and run to fat - a hidden dart here, a seam there, all engineered to hang a bit off - his jackets a little too fitted across the belly, a fraction too long at the hip and just the wrong shades of gray or navy blue to wash out the color of his skin. His shirts were loose in the sleeves and tight at the neck. His pants were cut slightly lower in the inseam than was necessary. He maintained himself about a half-stone over his fighting weight to keep the soft roundness of his face. His full mouth and brown eyes could make him seem sweet and faintly vulnerable.

Harry knew the value of being underestimated and used his cherubic appearance to his advantage.

Now, he stood with his hands on his hips, contemplating a satellite photo on the electronic whiteboard mounted in the conference room. He'd removed his suit jacket, his only concession to the lateness of the hour. He reached up and enlarged a section of the photo with his thumb and forefinger. The movement elongated his torso and pulled his shirt tight at his waist. He turned away from the board, folded his arms across his chest and tugged thoughtfully on his lower lip, staring at the floor, broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his shirt, biceps bulging in his sleeves.

Jo blinked in surprise and stole a glance at Ros. Ros was gazing at Harry speculatively. Ruth kept her eyes firmly fixed to a spot on the table in front of her.

Harry looked out at his team from beneath his lashes. Malcolm and Colin had their heads together over a tablet. Adam was staring at nothing, frowning. Ruth rubbed a fingertip against a spot on the conference table.

"What do you see, Ros?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure, Harry," she said, keeping her face empty.

He looked at Jo. Her lips were parted and her eyes wide. "And you, Jo?"

Jo closed her mouth and gave a quick negative shake of her head.

Harry scrubbed his hands over his face. "Somebody wake up Zaf," he said.

Zaf's head snapped forward at the sound of his name. "Huh? Yes. What? Right," he said.

"Go home, all of you," said Harry. "We'll pick this up in the morn-." He glanced at his watch. "At 0900. Six hours."

Adam got up and immediately stalked out. Zaf invited himself to stay over at Malcolm's and Ros offered her spare room to Jo to save her a cold trip on the tube. Ruth pushed back her chair.

"Ruth," said Harry.

"Yes, Harry?"

"I'll give you a lift."

"No. No, I can…" She looked out at the empty corridor.

"You've missed the last bus. It's my fault for keeping you. I'll take you home."

"Oh, uh-."

"Your home. Let me see you home."

"My home. Yes, of course. I knew you meant my home. But-."

Harry rubbed his eyes with the flat of his fingers. "Ruth. It's late. Let's go."

Ruth ducked her head and rushed out the door. Harry exhaled slowly through pursed lips. He'd never known anyone who tested his patience like Ruth. He followed her down the corridor, snatched his overcoat and suit jacket from his office and crowded into the same pod with her before she could disappear.

They drove silently through the rain-washed streets to her house with Ruth sitting stiffly, her hands clutched in her lap. Harry made no attempt at small talk. He was entirely too exhausted. She was in his car. That would have to suffice for tonight.

Harry pulled to the curb. When she didn't get out, he looked over.

"Thank you for the ride," she said.

"My pleasure."

"The door is locked."

"Oh. Sorry." He pushed a button and the lock disengaged with a discreet click. "Sleep well, Ruth."

"This car," she said. "It's solid. And expensive. Like you."

Harry arched his brows. "I suppose I'm flattered," he said. "Though, I bought it because it's fast and…for other reasons."

Ruth nodded. "In the pod," she said, staring through the windshield.

"What about the pod?"

"We're supposed to go through one at a time."

"I'm sorry if I got too close."

"No, I— it's. I — I like the way you smell at the end of the day," she said.

She was out of the car and in her house before he could recover. As he pulled from the curb, Harry smiled. This is the pay-off for patience, he thought. Here was another weapon for his arsenal in the Battle of Ruth.

**XXXXXXXX**

Harry let himself into his house and hung his coat on the rack in the foyer. Scarlet trotted over and dropped a small red ball at his feet.

Harry froze.

Scarlet backed away wagging her tail, looking from him to the ball and back. Harry reached under the small table by the door and pulled a gun from a holster he fastened beneath it. He knelt and picked up the ball. He didn't buy this for her.

He held his breath and listened. He heard nothing. He inhaled quietly through his nose. No professional would be stupid enough to wear cologne to a hit but adrenaline and testosterone had their own aroma. He wished briefly for the security system of his former house but no system was impenetrable and anyone going after Harry Pearce would likely find it more expedient — and safer for them - to just drop a bomb on him. He spared the taxpayers the expense, installed motion-sensitive outdoor lighting, fortified the doors and windows and adopted the next best thing to a sophisticated security system - a yappy, territorial little dog.

He studied Scarlett. She wasn't behaving as if someone were in the house.

He rolled the ball into the hallway. Scarlet scrambled after it, barking happily. He stepped out of the foyer with his gun raised. He followed the dog, peering into the darkness. He took another step, his feet flew out from under him and he landed hard on his back. He lay there, blinking. Scarlet ambled over and dropped her new ball by his head.

"You're going to catch me on the wrong day and get yourself killed, Eli," said Harry.

Eli peeled from the shadows, dangling Harry's gun by the trigger guard. "You dropped this," she said.

"Careful, there's a round in the chamber."

She stepped over Harry and went to put the gun back in its hiding place. Harry watched her from the floor. She came back and gazed down at him with her arms folded.

"I think I broke something," said Harry.

"You're all right."

"I'm an old man. You can't knock me around like that."

"Old man, my ass," Eli snorted. "Get up, Harold."

Harry held out a hand. "Help me up," he said, wincing and rolling his shoulder.

She gripped his hand and pulled him to his feet. He used the momentum to twist her arm behind her and bring her hand high between her shoulder blades. He pushed her face first against the wall and held her there firmly with his hips. She struggled briefly but stopped when she felt the sharp sting of a blade against her throat. He increased the torque on her twisted arm and spread her legs with a kick to her ankles. He pressed harder with his hips. She let out a small gasp. He held her like this until he felt the muscles in her body relax.

"Look at me," said Harry.

She leaned her head back on his shoulder. She looked at him. His eyes roamed her face, glittering darkly. She swallowed hard. He felt a tremor run through her. He dipped his head, his lips veering away a millimeter before they met hers.

"My name's not Harold," he breathed in her ear.

He closed the knife and slipped it back into her pocket. He released her and strode into his kitchen, flipping on lights as he went.

"Jerk," she muttered, massaging her wrist.

Harry grinned. "What is it you say in the Colonies? Payback is a something or other?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not an American?"

Eli Winston was born in the US of British parents.

"I need you to do something for me," said Harry.

She leaned against the counter while he rummaged in the refrigerator.

"Make your own fucking sandwich," she said.

"Fancy a trip to Hong Kong?" asked Harry.

"Want me to kill somebody?"

"No, you psychopath." Harry paused, frowning. "Well, let's hope not, anyway."

"What's the gig?"

"I need a lover."

"You're a little high profile to be doing ops, Harrison."

"That's the beauty of it."

She watched him with narrowed eyes. "You just want to have sex with me."

Harry abandoned his quest for sandwich fixings and drank from the glass of red wine Eli poured for herself after breaking into his house. He looked into the glass.

"That bottle cost eight hundred pounds," he said.

"Dishwater crap," she said.

"Anyway," said Harry. "The legend is, Harry Pearce on holiday."

"You loathe vacations."

"Exactly. A lavish holiday with a beautiful girl. I'll be acting completely out of character."

"Ah. The old mid-life crisis con."

Harry spread his hands. "Presidents have been impeached, kings abdicate their thrones…"

"Men are so stupid. They spend their entire lives being dragged behind their erect penises."

"A prime moment to turn the unturnable."

"Don't Five have a stable of hookers for this kind of thing? Or are you making a statement about my character?"

"I need reliable back up, not just another pretty face."

"What about what's her name? Ruth. She's a closet badass."

Harry took another sip of wine. He held the glass to his nose and sniffed. "No," he said quietly. "It's complicated." He sat the glass aside with a grimace. "You're right. It's crap."

Eli watched him fidget. He ran his hands through his hair, fiddled with his watch and smoothed his tie with his fingers.

"What's the target?" she asked, letting him off the hook.

"I'm not sure."

"Somebody poke you with a stick?"

"Not yet, but I'm being watched."

"What else is new?"

"This is different. They're not being very stealthy. They know I know."

"Sounds like you're going to be burned or turned."

"I think turned. I got a ridiculously good deal on my new car."

Eli stretched and yawned. "Well, I'll think about it, Harcourt."

"It's the least you could do for breaking into my house."

"Yeah, yeah," she said, heading for the door.

"And stop stealing my t-shirts," he called after her.

Scarlett whined softly when the front door closed. Harry looked down at her.

"Traitor," he said.

_**More Harry to come. More on Eli, though I don't even know that much about her, yet.**_


	2. Chapter 2

~~Chapter 2

At the end of the morning briefing, Harry announced that he was going on holiday. There was wide-eyed silence all around the conference table.

Finally, Ros spoke up. "Are you in trouble again?" she asked.

"No," said Harry.

"It's that thing with the Algerian president's sister," Malcolm said.

"That was twenty years ago, Malcolm."

"But-."

Harry held up a hand. "It's just a holiday. I haven't had one in ages," he said.

"What's the big deal? I think it's brilliant," said Zaf.

"Harry's holidays are usually involuntary," said Ruth.

"Not this time," said Harry. "I'm off to Hong Kong."

"Hong Kong?" Malcolm's eyebrows shot up. "What in the world are you going to do in Hong Kong?"

"We'll think of something," said Harry.

Malcolm's brows climbed even higher. "We?" he said.

"Who-?" Zaf began.

"A friend," said Harry, cutting him off. "You all have work to do. I'll see you when I get back."

The team got up and filed out, Zaf grinning widely at Harry. Harry kept his eyes focused on nothing when Ruth passed him as the last one out.

"Malcolm, Adam. A word," he said.

Malcolm settled back into his chair and Adam remained standing, propped against the wall.

"I knew it," said Malcolm. "It's not a real vacation."

"I'm being courted," said Harry

Adam walked over and slid the door closed. "Who?" he asked.

Harry shrugged with a tilt of his head. "I don't know, but I received a love note in the form of a huge discount on my latest sport coupe."

"Maybe you just got a good deal."

"This was a message, Adam."

"Sounds like the Cousins," said Malcolm. "Butter you up before they bugger you."

"The _true_ definition of The Special Relationship," said Adam.

"It's not the Americans."

"So, how do we find out who it is?" Malcolm asked.

"As the old saying goes, we go to Egypt and look for Greeks," said Adam.

"No one goes to Hong Kong unless they have to. Not even the Russians," said Harry. "I raise my skirt a little, show a little leg. See who comes out of the woodwork."

"And your lucky travel companion?" asked Adam.

Harry sat back in his chair and covered a grin with two fingers. He looked at Malcolm. "Remember Eli Winston?"

"You're joking."

"I'm not."

"Who is Eli Winston?" asked Adam. "I thought – You uh, you're going with a bloke?"

Harry gazed at him without blinking.

"Eli Winston is a woman, Adam," Malcolm said. "A Woman of the Bedchamber, actually."

"What? Those frumpy, gray pigeons who watch the Queen have a bath?"

"Eli does far more than watch the Queen bathe," said Harry.

"She's one of Harry's close-up wet work ghost ninja assassins," said Malcolm.

"You exaggerate, Malcolm."

"You've got a Lara Croft at Buckingham Palace?" asked Adam.

"She's not one of "mine". In fact, I can't get her to come over to Five," Harry said. "But I need back up."

"They'll be watching. Very closely," said Malcolm.

"If you need back up, take me," said Adam.

"I'm sorry, darling. It would never work between us," said Harry.

"Oh. _That_ kind of back up."

"We'll also need Category A counter-surveillance."

"I'm going to need Colin's assistance if we're going Category A," said Malcolm.

Harry drummed his fingers on the conference table. "Ok. But the fewer people in, the better, please," he said. He ran a finger under his collar. "I'm not the man I used to be."

"You're not fooling anyone with the portly paper-pusher act, Harry," said Malcolm.

Adam shook his head. "I'm still not comfortable with you alone and this -."

"Close-up wet work ghost ninja assassin," said Malcolm.

"I was going to say, Lady of the Bedchamber," said Adam. "Why not take Ros or Jo?"

"We go it alone. Miss Winston is quite capable in the field," said Harry. "They're trying to turn me, not kill me. Plus, I've still got friends in the Hong Kong police."

"But they might kill you when they can't turn you."

"Hence, Miss Winston as my bodyguard."

Jo poked her head into the room. "Eli Winston here to see you, Harry," she said.

"I'll be right out. Please show her to my office."

"She seemed to know the way."

"Thank you, Jo."

Harry pushed back from the table and stood. He hitched his belt and craned his neck. He smoothed his hair down on top. Adam and Malcolm watched him, amazed and amused, respectively.

"What?" said Harry.

_**XXXXX**_


	3. Chapter 3

~~Chapter 3

Eli stood looking out at the Grid with her hands clasped behind her back. A gray wool suit coat hung from her shoulders, tailored to conceal the old-fashioned shoulder holster she preferred to the standard-issue gun belt. The gray pleated skirt fell primly mid-calf over thick black stockings and chunky black lace up Brogans. Her dark hair was pulled back into a heavy bun at her nape and thick-framed glasses threatened to overwhelm her face. Harry glanced out at Ruth's desk. She was not there.

"Eli," said Harry. "You know Malcolm."

Eli turned from the window, smiling warmly. "Malcolm. It's good to see you. How's your mother?"

"My mother is quite well, thank you for asking," said Malcolm, his face a bit pink.

Harry turned to Adam. "This is Adam Carter," he said.

Eli nodded. "Mr. Carter," she said.

"Adam."

She nodded again, holding his gaze. "Adam," she said.

Harry gave Malcolm a pointed look.

"Oh, right. If you'll come with me Eli, I'll get you set up," said Malcolm. "Just a small implant behind your ear. Harry'll have one, too."

"She's American?" asked Adam when they were out of earshot.

"Born in the US of British parents. She spent her childhood there. She's been back home for fourteen years and still hasn't managed to lose the accent."

"She's not much, is she? A bit drab."

"Her assets are hidden."

Adam studied Harry. "Did you – have you -?"

"That has never been the nature of our relationship."

"Well, that's not going to be awkward."

"It'll be fine," said Harry.

"So what _is_ the nature of your relationship?" asked Adam.

"It's difficult to explain."

"How did you meet?"

"Her Majesty asked me to look into something at Balmoral. As a personal favor."

"What something?"

"That is between the Queen and me," said Harry.

"And Lady Eli?"

"Was immensely helpful."

"You're being stingy with the details, Harry."

"About a month after Balmoral, I woke up with Eli in my bed."

"I thought your relationship was platonic."

"I never said it was platonic. She breaks into my house, drinks my wine, steals my undershirts. Sometimes I wake up and there she is, curled under the duvet, asleep."

"Jesus, Harry. The woman sounds completely mental."

Harry shrugged. "It's never felt weird." He pushed papers around on his desk with his fingertips. His face colored. "I actually find I sleep a bit more peacefully when she's there. It's sort of what we both need right now. Not that there isn't something…more. I thought I'd let her make the first move."

"I'd say breaking into your house to crawl into bed with you is a hell of a first move."

"I hadn't thought of it that way. Lord knows I need a good night's sleep once in a while. At times I feel almost fatherly toward her."

"No. Hong Kong won't be awkward at all."

"Really, Adam. That's not all we're going to be doing there."

Adam held up a hand. "It's your op, Harry. You know what this means. If they really are watching, you can't just make it _look_ real."

"I know that," said Harry. "But we have to do something if we want to turn this courtship into an engagement"

"If Malcolm hacks in, we'll try to keep it audio only."

"We go by the book, Adam."

"If you insist."

"Insist is not exactly the word, but yes." Harry chuckled. "Funny that we have to record everything to avoid the appearance of scandal if this thing breaks."

"Keep your receipts," grinned Adam.

Eli walked in holding a piece of gauze pressed behind her ear. "What's funny?" she asked.

"Shop talk," said Harry.

She looked from one to the other. "Malcolm lies when he says inserting the implant doesn't hurt," she said.

"For Queen and Country," said Adam.

"For Queen and Country."

Harry let out a quiet cough.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. A pleasure to meet you Miss Winston."

"Eli," she said.

Adam nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Eli."

She regarded the back of him as he left. "I understand he's single now," she said.

"Christ, Eli," said Harry.

"He didn't exactly waste any time."

"That doesn't mean he's not grieving. And stop thinking what you're thinking."

"Don't worry, Harry. I require a bit more finessing than getting clubbed over the head and dragged into a cave." She walked over and tossed the gauze into the trashcan. "Ms. Evershed, on the other hand."

"What about her?"

"A wolf in intelligence analyst's clothing. Probably cut my throat in my sleep."

"You make it sound as if I work with a bunch of homicidal maniacs."

She glanced over her shoulder at Ros. "Don't you?"

"Pot, meet kettle."

"And I see you're wearing your lucky tie."

"You are wrong about Ruth."

"And you're in denial - both of you."

"You Americans and your psychobabble."

"Nice dodge, Harland. And for the last time, I'm British."

"Let's work up our legend," said Harry. He hiked a hip on his desk.

"Seriously. Your Ruth would make a wicked Lady Macbeth. I like her."

"Focus, please."

"Ok," said Eli. "I suppose you'll tell me why we're really going to Hong Kong when we get there."

"Eli."

"Keep your pants on. Or not," She said, grinning. She faced him squarely, rolled her shoulders and bounced slightly on her toes a couple of times. "Ok, go," she said, looking into his eyes.

It was an old Spook exercise – weaving the tapestry of their legend, talking the back story through together, in character, like rehearsing a play.

Harry settled himself more comfortably on the edge of his desk, breathing deeply. He studied her face, the way her hair waved back from her temples, the high arch of her brows, the thick fringe of her lashes. He recalled the feel of her body curled against his back, the warm smell of her beneath the covers. She had unbuttoned her collar for Malcolm's implant procedure. A heavy gold chain dipped down into her shirt and vibrated with her pulse. Harry reached out and curled a finger under the chain and pulled it out slowly. A small gold and enamel replica badge of the Order of the Garter was attached. He laid the necklace on her chest, the backs of his fingers brushing against her skin.

"We met at Balmoral," said Harry.

"Our eyes locked from across the room."

"We tried to ignore our attraction."

"But it was useless," said Eli, stepping closer.

"One thing led to another."

"Always an excuse to be where you were."

"A touch."

"A stolen kiss."

She stood just between his knees, a hand resting lightly on his thigh. "We fell into bed," she whispered.

"My mid-life madness."

"A May-December romance."

"And here we are."

"Lovers," she said.

"Lovers," he said.

They gazed at each other, flushed and a bit breathless. His eyes dropped to her mouth. He wanted to kiss her. Eli frowned.

"What is it, darling?" murmured Harry.

"This implant really stings," she said.

"Let me see." Harry brought her closer with a hand on her hip. "Poor baby," he said, gently probing the area behind her ear with his fingers. He leaned forward and blew softly against the tender spot. Eli's eyes fluttered closed. "That better?" he asked.

"Yes," she sighed.

Harry became aware of the sudden hush on the Grid. Eli still stood between his knees, her hand on his thigh and his hand resting on her hip. He reluctantly broke eye contact with her and looked out of his office window. Activity instantly resumed as everyone tried to pretend that they weren't watching. Only Zaf openly gaped until Jo gave him a discreet kick. Ruth was at her station. She stared at her monitor with fierce attention.

"It's not too late to back out of this," said Harry, his eyes on Ruth.

"If you'd rather have someone else?"

"There'll be bugs and optics everywhere."

"I know the drill."

"I just want to make sure you fully understand."

"You just make sure you're prepared to be ruined for all other women, Harvorst."

Malcolm leaned in and rapped on the door at the same time. "I'm ready with your implant, Harry," he said.

"He'll be useless once I'm done with him, Malcolm."

Malcolm's face burned furiously.

"Christ, Eli", Harry said.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:**_ _**The thing about Harry that I think is sometimes forgotten is that he is one scary dude. Yes, he's brilliant and beautiful and a poet and a hopeless romantic on a hero's journey. But Crusaders are also ruthlessly single-minded and bloody. Women have been falling for guys like that for two thousand years.**_

_***sigh* **_

_**Me, too.**_

_**P.S. Did you know that "ruth" means "friend" in Hebrew? Some translate it to mean "compassion." I find that interesting.**_

_**~~Chapter 4**_

**Hong Kong**

Harry originally booked an executive suite at the Hong Kong Peninsula Hotel but when they arrived, they found they were mysteriously upgraded to a luxury suite. The front desk gave a vague explanation as to the reason for the upgrade, apologizing profusely for the "inconvenience." Harry protested weakly, participating in the charade.

The rooms were so insanely opulent as to make the executive rooms look like an East End bedsit. The suite was three levels and seemed to occupy an entire corner of the hotel. There was a chef's kitchen — chef included - a gym and a private concierge. The terrace large enough hold a party of a hundred people and had a lap pool. They had a view of the hills and the ocean beyond that.

Harry and Eli casually swept the rooms for surveillance devices. The devices were state-of-the-art - and they were everywhere.

"There's even a wine vault," said Harry. He held up a bottle of Dom Perignon. "A good year."

Eli was unimpressed.

"This is an economy room at a fleabag hotel in Dubai", she said. "The UAE don't fuck around when it comes to ostentatious luxe."

"It _is_ a bit over the top."

She sniffed and folded her arms. "Rock stars and drug dealers think this crap is cool."

"Snob," said Harry.

"I roll with the Queen, baby."

Harry popped the cork on the bottle of champagne and poured two glasses. "Let's have it out on the terrace."

"Champagne makes me silly," she said, taking a glass.

"Oh, stop. You can drink me under the table."

"Wait," said Eli. She left the room and came back with her iPod. She docked it into the suite's sound system. "I have a playlist that I labeled Henry James," she said. "Mozart, Muddy Waters, Tchaikovsky, Zeppelin, Coltrane." She picked up the remote and pointed it at the receiver. "Kashmir" blasted from the surround sound. Harry imagined their watchers snatching off their headsets and rubbing their ears. The music would also serve to muffle their conversation outside. They stood with their heads close, speaking softly, like lovers.

"Eight," said Eli.

"Nine," said Harry.

Eli frowned, thinking. There were goons all over the lobby. She counted eight. Harry saw nine. At any rate, they were probably just the hired help. It told them nothing about who reached out to Harry.

"That's a lot of manpower spent on you," said Eli. "It's such a huge waste. Don't they know you've got the Union Jack tattooed on your dick?"

"Every so often, someone has to make a run at me."

"That bell hop looked Gurkha," said Eli. She shivered.

"Nothing here is what it seems. That's the game."

"You're having fun, aren't you?"

Harry nodded, his eyes shining. "I have to admit, I do get a bit bored sitting behind a desk," he said. "It's nice to get out on a…holiday."

"Well, I think it's time we started to behave like we're on vacation. A toast." Eli held up her glass. "To your penis. Long may he wave."

"Here, here," Harry laughed, tapping the rim of her glass with his.

Eli leaned her forearms on the terrace railing and looked out at the city. Harry felt a tiny thrill of panic when she stood on her toes to peer over the side. He'd jumped from airplanes into the dark, not knowing if he was going to be shot on the way down or get his throat cut when he landed, but he still harbored a slight fear of heights. He stepped back and sat at one of the patio tables.

He took the opportunity to study Eli while her back was turned. She looked like an American tourist in her cotton sundress and cowboy boots. She was slightly taller than Ruth but long-limbed. She was one of those women who was both leanly muscled and voluptuous at the same time. She complained that her breasts made her more vulnerable in a fight but they didn't seem to hinder her as she nearly kick boxed the sand out of the heavy bag in his basement.

_**XXXXXXX**_

He met her for the first time at a government function held at Balmoral. He strolled the perimeter of the ballroom, trying to avoid being drawn into conversation, bored out of his mind, glancing surreptitiously at his watch, counting down to the time he could leave without seeming rude. He felt eyes on him all evening but each time he scanned the room, he could see no quick, furtive movement of a person caught in the act of watching him. The orchestra cued up a tango and Harry used the flurry of activity toward the dance floor to camouflage his escape. He was stopped by a touch to his elbow.

"Mr. Pearce."

He turned and looked down at a darkly beautiful young woman who he was sure he had not previously seen that night. He would have remembered this one.

"Shall we dance?" It didn't sound like a request. "Please," she said, staring into his eyes.

"Of course," said Harry.

They stepped into the swirl of other dancers and after a brief battle over who was to lead, they danced. The woman quietly introduced herself and informed him that Her Majesty required his services and if he could be so kind as to follow her once they got to the other side of the room. Harry looked down at her. Her hair was a cascade of thick shiny waves held back with combs inlaid with what looked like small diamonds. He slid his hand from her waist to the small of her back. He pulled her closer so that their bodies were lightly touching. He spun them around, ending in a dip. He held her there a beat longer than necessary, enjoying the weight of her in his arms. He brought her slowly upright, his face very close to hers.

"I'm not carrying a weapon," she said.

"I know," said Harry.

They worked together on the Queen's assignment for a week. Eli could be irrational, argumentative and moody. She didn't like being told she was wrong and she didn't do what she was told.

They were well-matched.

He found himself missing her after their project was complete. A dozen times he reached for the phone - and a dozen times he chided himself for being an old fool. A month later, he awakened to the sound of a soft snore. He kept his breath even and his body still. He searched the room with his eyes. Scarlet slept soundly in her dog bed by the door. He glanced at the clock. It was 3:00am. He felt cool toes pressed against his calf. He carefully lifted the duvet.

Eli stirred. "Couldn't sleep," she muttered and threw an arm across his waist.

His heart thumped once, hard in his chest.

He lay there, breathing in her now-familiar scent.

He closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

She did this - not too often - seldom enough though to cause him to begin miss her again. Then suddenly she'd appear in his bed, head buried beneath the pillows, snoring quietly. Most mornings she was gone when he woke. Other times, she stayed for coffee. Some days he came home and there was takeaway food on the table, still warm in cartons, with a note attached that read, "Food, not Scotch." When he was shot by Tom Quinn, she stood silently by the door in his hospital room watching as he shakily dressed after signing himself out against doctor's orders. He didn't ask for help and she didn't offer as he struggled to button his shirt. But she stayed with him for three days after he finally came home, threatening to shoot him again when he tried to go back to the Grid, browbeating him into taking his pain medication and force-feeding him the terrible homemade soups she burned on his stove. That first night, he let her undress him, sit him on the edge of his tub and gently wash the smell of blood and Betadine from his skin with a flannel. He was exhausted and weak from blood loss. He'd gone thirty-six hours without sleep or painkillers. The emotional trauma that came with being shot crashed into him and he buried his face in her body, wrapped his arm around her waist and wept. She stroked the back of his head and said, "Shh. I've got you."

Harry didn't question why he allowed her to do for him what he so resisted from others. It was just nice to let go of some of the control in a relationship.

Unfortunately, that took breaking into his house and crawling into bed with him while he slept.

He couldn't describe the nature of their relationship if anyone asked. He and Eli were perhaps akin to army buddies: intimate and distant, physical but not sexual - not on the surface, at any rate. Harry had to admit that she was the _other _woman who was strongly featured in his thoughts during the rare occasions that he masturbated. It didn't hurt that she was beautiful. But at thirty-two, she was twenty-five years his junior. She had babies and dogs and a cottage in the country ahead of her. He would not be a part of that.

He wondered briefly if his motives were entirely pure in having her here in Hong Kong. It was true that he needed to know who was trying to turn him, but was this the best way to do it? Sup with the devil and all that.

Best to get on with it.

_**XXXXXXX**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Sex.**_

**~~Chapter 5**

Harry downed the last of his champagne and stood. A strong burst of wind knocked into him and he had to brace himself a bit. He saw Eli grip the terrace railing.

"Whoa! That one almost sent me flying," she laughed.

He walked over to her and pulled her against him with his arms around her waist.

"Get back from there, Eli," he said.

"Scared, Hieronymus?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.

He leaned down and kissed place where her neck met the curve of her shoulder. "Time to get to work," he said in her ear.

He slid one hand up her body to her breasts. He stroked his thumb over her nipple through the thin fabric of her dress. He brought his lips back to her ear. "Are you ready?" he whispered.

She gave a tiny nod.

He turned her head toward him and lifted her chin with his fingertips. He kissed her softly on the mouth.

Harry liked kissing. He was good at it.

He deepened the kiss, tightening his arm around her waist and lifting her off her feet, tilting her head back further with his hand in her hair. She made a small sound in her throat and went a bit limp in his arms.

Harry loved when women did that — and almost all of them did.

He broke the kiss long enough to turn her to him. He cupped her face in his hands and brought his mouth to hers again, this time thrusting his tongue inside. He took his time, slowly stroking his tongue across and around hers. He finally pulled back, sucking in her lower lip.

"I want to fuck you," he said.

"Harry," she said breathlessly, but he had turned and was walking back into their rooms. She blinked at him, disoriented. She lifted a trembling hand to her heart. She huffed out a laugh and murmured, "You bastard."

Harry poured champagne in a fresh glass. He sat in one of the deep leather chairs and watched Eli step in from the terrace. She stopped when she saw him.

"I thought we, uh. You said - ." She pointed lamely toward the stairs.

Harry nodded.

"But - ."

"Come here, Eli."

She stood before him, unsure.

"Closer," he said.

She took another half step.

His eyes raked from her neck to her knees. He set his glass on the table beside him. He reached under her dress, hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and pulled them down. He held her steady as she stepped out of them then sat back in his chair and sipped from his glass.

"Lift up your dress," said Harry.

"Wha - what?"

"I want to see."

Eli closed her eyes briefly and chewed a corner of her lower lip. She bunched the hem of her dress in her hand, slowly raised it and held it clutched to her chest.

Harry gazed at the cleft between her legs. "Did you do that for me?" he asked.

"Oh, I — I was at the spa. And, I don't, usually but…." She swallowed thickly. "Yes. I did it for you," she said.

"Thank you."

He rose from the chair, took her hand and led her upstairs.

**_XXXX_**

Harry stood behind her and pulled her dress up to her waist. Eli reached behind her neck to untie the halter.

"Leave it," said Harry.

He held her dress up with one hand and slid the other around her hip to her sex. He rubbed his fingers gently over her pussy. He'd been with women who waxed or shaved their pubic hair but it was still a novel experience for him and something he absolutely had not expected of Eli. It excited him and blood rushed to his genitals in a deep throb of lust.

"You make me so hard, Eli," he said.

He cupped her breasts in his big, warm hands. He scissored her nipples between his fingers as he nuzzled her neck. He sat her at the edge of the bed and stood between her knees. He began to undress, his eyes on hers the whole time. He got impatient with his buttons and yanked his shirt over his head.

Eli ran her hands up his smooth chest and over his broad shoulders. She marveled at how well his clothing hid his true physique. His belly was slightly rounded but she could feel the musculature flex when he bent to remove his pants. His legs were lean and strong. His cock hung heavily beneath russet pubic hair. She'd caught glimpses of him naked before but had not seen him erect. She looked slightly alarmed.

He leaned down and kissed her. "I won't hurt you," he said. He pressed her back on to the bed.

Harry knelt between her thighs, hooked his hands behind her knees and pushed them up and open. He kissed and nipped his way toward her pussy then gripped her hips and lifted her to his mouth. He licked her once in a long, slow swipe with the flat of his tongue.

This was another thing Harry enjoyed. He was good at this, as well.

He heard Eli gasp out his name. At the same time, he heard the quiet double tone of Malcolm activating the implant behind his ear. He paused for a split second. He clamped down on thoughts of Thames House.

He sucked her clit between his lips and flicked it with his tongue.

"Oh God, Harry," she cried.

_**XXXXXX**_

**~~Thames House**

"I'm in," said Malcolm, motioning Adam over. He turned back to his computer and viewed what was on the screen. "And so is Harry," he added.

"Oh. My." said Colin.

Adam leaned over Malcolm's shoulder and looked at the monitor. He was quiet for a long moment. He straightened, buttoning his jacket. He cleared his throat. "Let me know when it's uh, over, Malcolm," he said.

"Will do."

Colin stared at his screen with wide eyes.

"Colin, I can think of something better for you to do, if you like," said Adam.

"Oh. Right," said Colin. "I have those things over here." He clicked off the visual on his monitor but left the audio running.

_**XXXXX**_

**~~Hong Kong**

Harry preformed cunnilingus in the same way he did most things: thoroughly and with great skill. He could be a bastard when it came to women, but this bit he always got right.

He used his fingers only to gently hold her open. He used his lips and tongue, varying the speed and pressure, careful not to over stimulate, dipping his tongue into her hot center and into the puckered flesh below. And when he felt her begin to pulse against his mouth, he lifted his head to watch.

They lay diagonally across the huge bed. Eli's chest was heaving. Her arms were out-flung and her hair obscured her face. Harry planted soft kisses on her thighs and belly, nipping with his teeth over her ribs to her breasts. He gathered them in his hands and pushed them together, rubbing the afternoon stubble of his chin on her nipples. He reached up and brushed the hair out of her eyes. He sat back on his heels, gripped her ankles and pedaled her legs. He brought her feet to his mouth and kissed her toes.

"You're loud," he said, smiling down at her.

"My God, Harry. I'll see you get a Knighthood for that," she said. "I'm not kidding."

Harry stretched out on top of her, chuckling. "The day's not over yet, beautiful," he said.

Eli blushed and looked away, embarrassed.

"Oh my sweet, sweet little girl," Harry laughed.

"Knock it off," she said. She hid her face in the dress that was now pushed up to her neck.

"I think we can take this off now," said Harry. He pulled it over her head and tossed it aside.

"So what's next? Shopping? Dinner? Backgammon?"

"Oh, Eli. That is really, really not funny." His erection was hard and hot between their bodies.

She giggled and attempted to escape. He held her in place with a lingering kiss and his knee across her thighs. She sighed and spread her legs.

Harry also loved it when a woman did that.

He shifted his hips and pressed the head of his cock against her, pushing in slowly until just the head entered her pussy. She was hot and wet but he felt her tense when he pushed forward again.

"Sorry," he said. He pulled out a fraction and waited, breathing carefully through his nose.

"It's okay. It's okay, Harry. Oh! Just -." She clutched frantically at him.

He thrust into her, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth. "You feel so good," he gasped.

He began to fuck her with strong, measured strokes, watching as his cock glided in and out of her body. He had to close his eyes against the sight for fear of coming too soon but when Eli wrapped her legs around his waist and rolled her hips, he abandoned his plan to hold off his orgasm. He pounded into her, sliding his hand down the back of her thigh and pushing her knee to her chest. She groaned loudly, matching him thrust for thrust. He pressed his face into her neck and gave himself over to the feel of her breasts soft and hot against his chest, the smell of her, the sound of her voice chanting his name - this woman who was much too young for him -

"I'm going to come," he said roughly. His orgasm was quiet, his breath jerking in his chest and his body trembling as he ejaculated inside her. He was still for a moment then began to thrust again. He dragged his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply until the movement of his hips slowed to a halt.

He rested his forehead against hers. "Did I hurt you, Eli?"

She stroked her fingertips down his cheek. "Never," she said.

_**XXXXX**_

**~~Thames House**

Adam glanced at his watch as he walked across the Grid to Malcolm's desk. He looked at the monitor. His mouth dropped open.

"Still?" he said.

"Again, actually," said Malcolm.

They stared at each other in silence.

"Bloody hell," said Adam.

"I think this bit will be just fine un-transcribed." Malcolm handed his headset to Adam.

Adam held the piece to his ear and listened. He stiffened. He could hear Lady Eli loud and clear but there wasn't much from Harry other than the sound of his slightly uneven breathing. "Let's just lose the audio on this entire er, segment," he said.

They watched the monitor. They tilted their heads sideways.

"What?" said Adam.

"Wait for it," said Malcolm.

"Ooh," said Adam.

"That young lady is going to fall in love with Harry."

"I think _I'm_ falling in love with Harry," said Adam.

Malcolm nodded. "I'm taking notes. I shall be writing a book later." He tried to keep the smile on his face from full bloom but he didn't manage.

Soon Adam was smiling and then both of them began to laugh.

_**XXXXX**_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you all for the lovely feedback. Sorry for taking so long to update. It's hard to squeeze this into the times when I'm not working on my 'real' writing *cough*. I know that Colin and Ros did not overlap but I cannot abide a world were sweet Colin died such a brutal and lonely death. He lives on.  
**

**I have to say again that I have no idea where this is going. My sexual obsession with Harry is getting in the way of the story progression. And I'm not so much watching MI-5 as I'm staring at Peter Firth's beautiful mouth!* Oh well. I'll make an effort to give this story a plot, I promise. It's becoming more of a character study, if anything. Harry does get to shag a lot. So, that's nice.**

***We heard about Rupert Penry-Jones and his penis over here in America. That's what originally got me started on MI-5. It's a perfectly nice penis but by the end of Series 3, I was totally all like, "Team Firth."**

_**XXXXX**_

**~Hong Kong**

Harry stood with his head down as hot streams of water pounded his body from six directions. The effect was extremely relaxing and he thought that he might install such a set up in his bath at home. The water pulsing at waist height had intriguing possibilities if one wasn't showering alone. He filed that idea away to contemplate later and tried to concentrate on what Eli was saying. It was difficult because she was massaging a soapy sponge mitt down his back and over his buttocks.

"That's a whole lot more What The Fuck than I would've tolerated," said Eli. "I mean, it makes no sense to me. She never even finished her A-Levels. And, _and_ after he gave her a key to the TARDIS, she turned around and gave it to some dude she only knew for like, two seconds. Martha – the beautiful and brilliant medical student - had to save the Doctor's life, heal a _living_ _sun_ and snog some other bloke before he gave _her_ a key. Begrudgingly, by the way."

"Perhaps he'd learned his lesson about giving the key so freely," Harry murmured. He had no idea what she was talking about but didn't mind listening. It was unusual for her to be so effusive - about anything - and he thought it rather endearing. He sighed and rolled his neck. Eli had slipped the sponge around his ribs to his belly. Her breasts pressed against his back.

"What is it about blonds, anyway?" she grumbled.

Harry shrugged. "You're asking the wrong man," he said. "Hair color is not among the first things I notice about a woman."

"Let me guess," said Eli. "A long list of exemplary "qualities" that are exceedingly rare to find in one person. And by that I mean, someone exactly like you."

"Wrong," said Harry. He turned around and pulled her into his arms. "It's tits."

"Liar."

"It's the first thing I noticed about you. I thought to myself, I bet her nipples taste like Chocolate Buttons," he said, bending his head to take one into his mouth.

_**XXXXXX**_

**~Thames House**

Ruth was at Harry's desk before she even realized that she was in his office. She'd meant to take the binder she held to Adam.

Harry ranted and raved about people not bothering to knock before entering his office; but since his door was usually open, everyone ignored his threats and barged right in. Ruth couldn't recall a time when she didn't feel comfortable here. She occasionally worked at his desk when he was out and he didn't seem to mind finding her there when he came in.

She had heard about him while at GCHQ. The Harry Pearce mythology rivaled Arthur's. There was practically a fan club - a fan club of people who had never actually met him. She decided to reserve judgment and was completely stunned when she first saw him. There was no photo in his personnel file – curious in itself - but she read his vital statistics. The height, weight, age, etc. listed in his file were all wrong. This man was taller, younger, had brown hair and green eyes. She blinked in surprise and he seemed to morph back into the man described in the file. She chalked up her momentary hallucination to nerves. He was rather like a teddy bear that first day, and so soft-spoken that she sometimes had to lean forward to hear him.

She soon learned that her initial impression was dead wrong. He was mercurial and mulish, ruthless and obsessive. His temper tantrums were epic. But he was also frighteningly intelligent, gentle with children and terrible at telling jokes. There were certain things one could predict about Harry: coffee and croissant in the morning, Scotch at five o'clock, pinstripes on Fridays. But he was otherwise so changeable that he made her head spin.

It took her roughly three days to fall in love with him.

Her every instinct screamed at her to run. Harry Pearce would set her on fire and she would burn and burn until there was nothing left. But she stood mutely as her one carefully-planned attempt to save herself walked away into the cold night, Mozart's "Requiem" suddenly, ironically appropriate. It didn't dawn on her until later that Harry knew about her lunch with John Fortescue. Harry had loomed possessively over her when he grilled her about the scientist's accounts - pumped up, dominant male on full display. "Is that a yes? Or a perhaps?" he had asked and for one dizzying moment, she was unsure to what he was referring. His behavior was the tipping point for Ruth, forcing her toward the other man who, as it turned out, was only perfect on paper. She realized now that she did need rescuing - not from Harry but from a dreary, predictable life as Mrs. Fortescue. She had had the man of her dreams fixed in her mind and Harry smashed that image to bits.

She sat in his chair. The smell of him lingered faintly on his spare overcoat hung behind her: soap, starched cotton and…Harry. She resisted picking up the phone to press her lips where his had been. She leaned her head against the headrest and looked out at the Grid. Adam and Malcolm were hunched protectively over Malcolm's computer. Colin sat at his desk pretending to not listen on his earphones. The holiday thing was bollocks. The whole set up was unusual. What was Harry playing at? Adam would have told her what was going on if she'd asked but she didn't want to know.

Eli Winston was _that_ kind of back up. That's all Ruth needed to know.

Ruth had called him while he was at home recovering from his gunshot wound. "Can I do anything for you?" she asked.

"No," he said. "I need solitude to recuperate."

Before he hung up, Ruth heard a woman's voice call out to Scarlet.

It would be ridiculous to believe that a man like Harry would be celibate but she assumed that the women with whom he had sex were just that: women with whom he had sex. She imagined them thoroughly vetted and extremely discreet, rather like high-end prostitutes - no intimacy, no emotion, no romance. Ruth could deal with that. The thought of him with a woman he trusted and obviously liked was practically unbearable.

She clenched her jaw to keep her chin from trembling but she couldn't stop the tears welling in her eyes. "Don't be so stupid," she muttered. Everyone was in love with Harry—even Adam in his own way. It was what Harry did. He found out what you needed and gave it to you.

A hopeless romance was what Harry gave to Ruth.

"_Lacrimosa dies illa", _she said.

She angrily swiped the tears from her cheeks. She gathered up the binder and left the office.

_**XXXXX**_

_Lacrimosa dies illa_: "That(This) mournful day." First line, "Requiem – Lacrimosa"

- Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart


End file.
